Mortality is Weakness
by Cobalt Blue Sphere
Summary: On the Fields of Justice, a wide variety of entities clash. The summoning ritual keeps the fighters from death, but doesn't block the sensation of dying. And strong though she is, even the youngest of champions is shown no mercy when in battle.


The small girl, dressed in purple and rising to only the knee of most other combatants, gave a shrill giggle as a blast of fire consumed yet another blue-clad Minion. The Minions engaged in their mindless battle at the northwestern corner of Summoner's Rift, simulataneously serving as fodder and shields for the champions doing their own battle.

"More gold for me," Annie smiled sweetly, and loosed another blast of fire at another melee Minion.

"See how long that lasts, infant." Malzahar's voice, horribly distorted and eerily menacing, returned. He floated a foot off the ground behind the clash, arms crossed, staring emotionlessly down at the child combatant on the other side. His deep purple robes, voice and method of mobility were enough to strike fear in even the most hardy of soldiers, but Annie didn't even flinch. The Minions seemingly didn't even hear him.

The Void Prophet flung his arms out towards the fight, engulfing a dying purple Minion in a Void shroud. Immediately it started choking, flopping to the ground seconds later. The Void essence leaped to the nearest purple Minion it could, and started devouring it in turn. Malzahar turned his attention to the new victim, hurling void bolts at it to hasten its demise.

Due to Malzahar's baleful influence, the fight slowly tipped in his favour. Finding no Minions to protect her, Annie turned and fled to the purple turret behind her. Malzahar gave the brush in the river to his right a cursory glance before following the small crowd of blue Minions onward.

Shortly Annie was joined by another wave of purple Minions, and with her and the Turret in the fight, Malzahar and the blue mooks were easily destroyed. It was his turn to retreat, and he floated into the brush to hinder her sight. Having been the victim of several ambushes from brush, she kept a wary eye on the tall grass and strayed towards the river slightly, to hinder a surprise attack.

This cycle repeated itself many times, both champions slowly growing in power and lining their metaphorical wallets with gold from slain Minions. Several times they engaged each other directly and blasts of fire and dark magic were exchanged between the two. More often than not, however, they waged a war of harsh words and condescending laughs. Anywhere else people would likely be alarmed at a small child participating in an adult's fight – they would probably be particularly alarmed that both the tiny girl and the menacing magician were clearly aiming to kill with every spell they launched at the other, and likely surprised that the battle was relatively evenly matched.

To the champions, though, it was just another battle.

Elsewhere on Summoner's Rift, a small fight was being waged between an animated scarecrow and a lumbering golem. Two small lizardmen flanked the golem, pelting the scarecrow with minor fire spells while the stone behemoth swung its mighty fists at the frail wooden creature.

Fiddlesticks drew his arm over his shoulder and hurled his own spell at the lizardmen. The wisp of dark wind collided with the first one, knocking the wind out of it. Seemingly with a mind of its own it immediately sought a new target, bouncing off its first victim to collide with the second one. This continued several times until the spell finally dissipated, leaving both creatures vastly weakened. Despite the damage, they continued to launch their attacks as fast as they could manage, with no more battle sense than the Minions.

Fiddlesticks laughed cruelly as he ducked another poorly-aimed swing from the golem, finding amusement in destroying the summoned creatures. He spread his arms wide, mimicking a proper scarecrow, and began sapping the life of the golem attacking him. The golem delivered a mighty punch to the now-immobile scarecrow, and Fiddlesticks simply let the blow collide, springing back to his previous position and repairing the damage by stealing the life of his aggressor.

In short order the summoned constructs were reduced to husks by Fiddlesticks. Arush of power flowed through him as the golem toppled to the ground. Heedless of the golem's corpse crushing a tree as it fell, he turned and struck out northward, muttering to himself.

"Level six, finally. And that little girl is pushing out too far, according to Malzahar." Fiddlesticks' awkward gait and cruel words only intensified his sinister appearance as he splashed up the shallow river that divided Summoner's Rift. "Oh yes, this will be delightful. She'll scream before the end, I hope."

Annie and Malzahar were still fighting as Fiddlesticks made his way to an ambush position. She was heaping pressure onto him, hurling fireballs at him every time he made an aggressive move and consuming entire minion waves with great gouts of flame. Malzahar's return spells were equally deadly, but through sheer luck (or possibly poor aiming) Annie had gained the upper hand, chipping away at his vitality and forcing him to stay on the defensive. He cursed himself for being outplayed by an eight-year-old even as he summoned another Null Zone on the ground to force her away.

Fiddlesticks' summoner, communicating through the link between them, told him to get ready: the scarecrow was in position and the child prodigy's fate was sealed.

Annie launched another small spell at the blue turret, loosening another piece of stone. All she needed was time to bring it down – Malzahar was too injured to pose a threat for now.

Just as she thought that he entered her line of sight, floating around the side of the tower. she immediately launched a fiery blast at him, almost as if out of reflex. The fireball connected, although it didn't do much to deter him, and she turned to retreat – striking a champion drew the turrets' attention, and their power was not something one wanted to be on the receiving end of.

Without warning, her path was blocked – a tall, shapeless, colourless creature teleported in front of her, with a storm of noise and pain accompanying him. Suddenly stricken by a crippling fear, she turned again to flee from the terrifying monster, only to be presented with Malzahar's grim visage, somehow warped and twisted beyond the usual intimidation factor he carried.

All around her she could hear crows, and they almost drowned out the sound of the monster's cackles and Malzahar's scary voice as they bit and screeched at her. The pain heightened as she felt a nasty magic collide with her, and at this point she wasn't sure whether it was Malzahar or the monster who had cast it.

She dropped to her knees as the crows and magic tore her apart, crying in pain and blindly casting fire spells to try and prolong her life. The crows seemingly didn't care about the blazing fire that emanated from her, however; they simply continued their assault as if it wasn't there, and she couldn't see well enough to take proper aim and hit either of her aggressors. Fear, pain, monsters and darkness were all she could see, hear and feel.

The little girl flopped to the ground with a rattling gasp just as the last of the crows Fiddlesticks had summoned vanished. Malzahar turned his attention to the remaining Minions who hadn't been devastated by Fiddlesticks' dynamic entrance. Fiddlesticks simply stayed where he was, continuing to cackle at her lifeless body and almost dance with a sadistic glee.

"Well done," Malzahar's words were enunciated with a degree of reluctance, as though compliments were alien to him, but it was lost as he continued. "Now get out of my lane. You're leeching my experience."

"Yes, of course," Fiddlesticks said sycophantically, still with a horrible grin etched on his face.

As he passed Annie's limp corpse he aimed a kick at her. Although his frail wooden legs didn't make much of an impact on the girl's tiny frame, and indeed made him lose his balance and stumble for the next few steps, the act was enough to send him careening into another spiral of insane laughter as he returned to the forest.

Malzahar followed the few blue Minions that had survived the Crowstorm down towards Annie's turret. As he passed her corpse he couldn't help but give a small chuckle of his own, but with far more restraint than Fiddlesticks had showed.

Annie gave a gasp and suddenly sat up. It was green and gray and blue all around her. The pain and darkness had gone, replaced with an aura of benevolence. Where was she?

Oh, right. She was at the Summoning pool. Fiddlesticks and Malzahar had killed her. She shuddered as she stood up, remembering the horror that Fiddlesticks had blinded her with. The things she had seen and felt in those few seconds, the malefic visions Malzahar had repeatedly cursed her with, even the deadly fights she participated in every day should've been enough to cause someone of her age to break down and cry.

But the little girl was numb to it. She had died many times over the course of her life, and killed many more than that. Every other day she was either being torn to shreds or reducing people to cinders. The magic that bound her to the summoning field somehow kept her alive – kept all of the champions alive. She knew this, and accordingly didn't hesitate when the time came to take another being's life. Sure, dying hurt – but it didn't matter. Fourty seconds or so and she would be returned to life, as good as new. And she _liked _burning things.

She picked her stuffed bear up off the floor of the Summoning pool and looked into the its eyes.

"Sorry, Tibbers. I should've called you out, but it was too scary out there. I forgot..."

She turned her gaze down the northernmost lane, to where Malzahar was no doubt ransacking the turret she should've been protecting.

"We'll do better this time, right Tibbers?" With that, Annie started running as fast as she could back towards the fight. She was planning to get revenge.


End file.
